The Rape of Lucretia
by Demons Of Doom
Summary: A goddess of glorious beauty, tall and proud, entertaining herself with the misery of mortals. And finding him too insignificant to grant even a lingering stare. And now she was crushed between stone and his sweaty body...Non-cons. Spanks.


This story is evil and immoral. If you don't like non-consensual sex stuff, then you may want to read something else.

If you do, hope you enjoy it, you fellow wrecked mind =D

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><p>"You secure nothing without me, you fucking Syrian." The slap of a spoiled noble-woman meant nothing to a seasoned gladiator but her words were like daggers and they sliced across his brain and heart. "If you go against my commands again…"<p>

And they sent him into a rage. Had he been Spartacus or Crixus, Lucretia's head would have been shattered against the stone wall but Ashur was careful even when hatred set his blood to boil. He pushed the bitch against the wall with great care, pinning her against it with just enough force to immobilize. The poor creature still cried out in pain.

"You command shit and piss." He hissed in her ear. "I am Glaber's man now. A word from me how you knew of his wife's intent to rob him of his unborn child or how the gods had nothing to do with delivering Oenomaus. You yet draw breath because I have not whispered your secrets into the praetor's ear!"

A slight whimper and his cock hardened like a rock. It wasn't the first time her suffering caused such a reaction. It was something of wonder he had discovered many weeks ago, upon finding her half-dead in a pool of blood. He had dragged her away to stitch up a mangled womb. She had shrieked and sobbed as the needle stabbed her flesh over and over again. It had come as a surprise for he nursed no hatred for her...

Guilt and pity had helped disract him from improper feelings at the time but now her helplessness-and the arousal it brought- didn't feel wrong. There was no blood, no pain. Death's putrid stench had been replaced by the scent of female hair, of carefully soaped flesh and perfume, all mingled with the dusty air of the arena.

He pulled his aching cock free of its prison and slipped a hand underneath Lucretia's dress, searching the delicious treasure hidden within its folds.

"No, Ashur. Ashur..."

Her scared whispering caressed his shaft like soft hands. This woman of power, his former domina, reduced to a shivering whimpering mess by Ashur, the lowest of fucking mortals. His cock found her entrance and stabbed it in one hard merciless thrust. She cried out in pain as several inches of raw meat slid into her unprepared canal. Ashur groaned, surprised at finding her so tight. After screwing nothing but worn-out slaves, such a finding was precious, even more so than poor Naevia. This cunt was not meant to be freely touched; it had been jealously guarded for decades and only granted to very few men. And now, it was being claimed and conquered by a low slave…

He hushed her anguished cries. The sounds were delicious but even more so would be her compliance. He had seen her uninterested gaze glance over him as he fought in the name of her husband's honor for months, as he was beaten and humiliated in that hot sandy hell-hole. A goddess of glorious beauty, tall and proud, entertaining herself with the misery of mortals. And finding him too insignificant to grant even a lingering stare.

And now she was crushed between stone and his sweaty body with his cock well buried inside her cunt.

"Consider it a kindness. One I shall see repaid." He growled in her ear. Kindness, of course, had little to do with his actions. He had needed her until that very morning. Now the tables had turned and, as she had abused him when the situation allowed, he would repay in kind.

He slipped a hand underneath her dress to cup her sex. Lucretia drew in a sharp breath and cried out as her clit was caressed by rough callous fingers. A meaty dry hand found her breasts. It squeezed and rubbed them with little care. Her nipples were caught, pinched and pulled. She tried to stay still and quiet, fearing what may come upon disobedience, but as the brute's attentions pushed her body to betrayal, her hands rushed to her sex to dig sharp fingernails on unwelcomed flesh and an explosive wail of despair escaped her throat. It was silenced by a meaty hand.

"Fucking cunt…" Ashur growled in her ear as he shoved her head back against his shoulder. Fear of reprisal was deadened by the relief of finding her breasts unmolested. It was unsettling how the flesh tingled, however, as if yearning for the rough attentions of this brute. "Silence is prudence, Lucretia. Be fucking quiet. If I'm discovered and threatened with death, I'll spill your secrets to all who give ear…"

She squealed underneath his hand as he slammed their hips together. She had stopped clawing at the hand he had nestled between her legs but her nails were still hooked in the flesh. It sting like hell and he could feel blood gliding down peeled skin.

"Put hands on wall. "

He commanded, squeezing her face a little harder. His lips twisted into a smile as she slowly obeyed, placing trembling hands against the wall. He resumed his tender massages upon her clit, wanting her to enjoy it as much as he did. His thrusts grew more aggressive. Her whimpering soon turned into the snorting rasping gasps of an aroused well served bitch.

"We are all beasts. The lowest slave, the most prominent noblewoman. Whores, spoiled rich bitches! Despite protests, every cunt overflows with juices around my cock!"

Her hands moved from the wall back to her crotch. Suddenly and with painful clarity, Ashur remembered how she had tried to stop his hands from stitching up her mangled womb, how she had tried to reject his assistance, how she had tried to push him away even when life was slowly dripping out of her gashed stomach. He had excused her contempt as a feverish attempt to stop a terrible agony but then she had thanked the gods and not him, she had robbed his noble actions of worth. He had been kind only to be insulted and scorned again…

"You fucking cunt…"

He growled and pulled away from her sex. He ripped off her dress and slammed his hand sharply against a tender asscheek. He pulled back and did it again and again. With each blow, faces of hated enemies flashed before his eyes, insults rang in his ears, cold gazes, and mocking words suffered throughout months of humiliating slavery, it all came down on him like a nightmare sent out by the furies themselves.

His descend into madness was deep but short lived. Lucretia was wailing in agony as his callous hand cracked relentlessly against her unprotected bottoms and, though smothered, the heart-rending sound soon pierced the miasma of hatred and rage clouding his mind. The feeling of soft tender flesh bruising and breaking underneath his hand was next. He was hurting Lucretia.

His hand halted immediately. He blinked, breathing heavily as his heart slowed its frantic pace. He glanced around, trying to shake away the eerie feeling of being somewhere else. It was his cell with unlocked doors, padded bed and candles. A private gladiator cell, denied him for so long. He was alone in there with Lucretia's soft warm body slumped against him. She was sobbing and whimpering again, hot tears streaming down tightly closed eyes.

His hand, so brutal and uncaring seconds ago, caressed her punished flesh. Lucretia flinched away from his touch, an involuntary reaction that spurred Ashur's anger. He fondled her tender asscheeks agressively, admiring how easily they had tainted red. The flesh was hot and the skin blistered in places…

"This color reminds me of your most favored hair." He stated. "Coincidence or was this a common practice between you and your demised husband? Did you, bitch, wear it like the slaves wear their collars?"

She sobbed underneath his smothering hand. He realized the poor woman would fall on her face were he to let go. He remembered again their time together after the massacre. How she had slept like a child in his arms after the gashing wound on her stomach had been tended. How she had whispered a weak thank you after he fed her some fresh water…

"To damage something as precious." He sighed, caressing her thighs and belly in an attempt to sooth the stinging agony and fear she was feeling. He slid his cock inside her again and rocked his hips gently. There was no flesh tenderer in a woman than that found upon entrance of her sex and there were no gentler caresses than those provided by a hard beating cock. "Don't force my hand again, Lucretia. I don't wish harm. Place hands on wall and stayed until commanded…"

She obeyed more readily than the first time, hooking her nails in the uncaring wall. His burning gaze fixed on those pale hands as he uncovered her mouth.

"Not a sound…" He cautioned as his hand found home on her heaving breasts. "Not a sound if not of passion or to praise your new lord."

Lucretia whimpered, slumped against Ashur as he continued hammering her sex with several pounds of hard burning meat. She tried to think of her deceased and loved husband but the power behind the Syrian's thrusts shattered the fantasy. Not even an insane mind could grant a kitten the strength of a tiger. She then sought aid on memories of a happy past, attempting to embrace memories of the Champion Crixus but delusion failed to deliver against Ashur once again. That other rat had never granted such diligent attentions…

Lucretia whimpered as her body betrayed her. It tingled with desire under the brute's loving hands. It squirmed and rubbed against him, sweating under the assault of the mounting heat. She gritted her teeth, yearning for his callous hand to smother her again, loathing the thought of someone else hearing her moans of helpless ecstasy.

"Yes, Lucretia, cum, you spoiled whore…"

"…please…"

Her plead died in a whimper as he seized her throat with a wet hand.

"Please what?"

"…please…please, stop…"

"You sure you wanme to stop now?" He tightened his hold around her neck and she hated herself for considering the question. Her cunt was tightening around his shaft. Every thrust set her nerves asunder, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. Her breasts felt warm and hard…."Ashur, the lowest of fucking mortals is about to send you to the Elysian fields…"

Ashur continued squeezing Lucretia's throat, his eyes fixed on her hands and his hips working feverishly to bring the bitch to peak. Even in the heat of a stunning fuck, in the materialization of a year-long dream, he was calm and calculating. Her hands remained on the wall even as he strangled her; that spoke of docility. She was responding quite well to his ministrations; that spoke of submissiveness. If he could make her cum, if he could make her cry out in passion, the bitch was his.

It finally happened. The velvety layers of flesh nestling his cock in such a loving embraced grew tense for wonderful seconds before breaking into powerful pulsations. They massaged his cock like the gagging mouth of an inexperienced slave. He released her throat, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her wails of ecstasy.

He allowed her to ride the first waves of pleasure unmolested, gritting his teeth as her convulsing cunt massaged his cock, aided by the frantic rocking of her hips. As the powerful pulsations eased, he slammed his callous hand against her sex. Lucretia's back arched and a new screech rumbled against his hand as a fresh wave of pleasure coursed through her sweaty burning body.

He slammed her against the wall and started thrusting savagely. Their hips met with loud wet slaps. His balls and Lucretia's breasts bounced madly about. Release finally came. He roared in ecstasy as his load was emptied into the womb he had so lovely stitched back together so many weeks ago.

Ashur removed his hand from Lucretia's mouth, allowing her to lift her head off his shoulder and to breathe freely. For minutes that felt like an eternity, they stayed there, panting together, their bodies warm and sweaty, their sexes pulsating the lasts waves of pleasure away.

"Please…"

"Yeah, yeah…" That word was really starting to piss him off. He pulled back away from her and stuffed his spent cock back into his pants. She turned around, hugging herself. For some reason, the look of fear and disgust on her face hurt him. And with hurt, came hatred. "You loved it. You loved my cock and my hands on your tits and cunt. Low as I may be, you just squirted your juices around my cock! And you are gonna do it again…" He caressed her face. She tried to pull away. His fingers clamped around her ear. "You'll learn to love me, Lucretia. You'll grow to respect me. "

And without another word, he left the cell. Lucretia slid slowly to the ground, hugging her defiled body in a desperate attempt to comfort herself and to shake away an improper sensation of satisfaction.


End file.
